


Not Just a Dream of Spring

by Anonymous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:28:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You are the Princess Shireen of House Baratheon, and you are my daughter...Now be a good queen."</p><p>When all seemed lost, Stannis’ followers found themselves in a magical land where lions, stags, and wolves talked and where a long winter was a distant memory. Two decades later, Shireen Baratheon ascends the throne of Narnia, with Devan Seaworth as her faithful Hand. She swore that she would be a good queen, and a good queen she means to be. Meanwhile, a new generation is growing and finding fulfillment and love. But the game isn't over, and plots more devious than their wildest fears are being woven.</p><p>Through flashbacks, also weaves in tales of how Stannis affected all those around him.</p><p>Chapter 1: Prologue<br/>Chapter 2: Shireen reflects on two decisions that changed her life, and reaches a third one.<br/>Chapter 3: Stannis Baratheon, motivational speaker. Richard Horpe has an encounter with an old friend that does not go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Excerpts from Histories of Westeros and Narnia

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by rereading the scene in A Dance With Dragons where Shireen meets a giant at Castle Black, which made me realize Shireen’s curiosity that the show highlighted had been there all along. It made me think about what it would be like for Shireen to live in an honest, loving world full of Talking Animals like Narnia, and whether this would be able to heal her, and even Stannis.
> 
> Let’s be honest: the chances that Stannis and Shireen make it through the series are very low. So this is a bit of self-indulgement in creating a better future for some of my favorite ASOIAF characters, but hopefully without losing sight of GRRM grimdarkness. And I’ve long wanted to do a crossover between these two vastly different worlds.
> 
> A knowledge of both ASOIAF and Narnia is not needed to understand this story. Short synopses are at the bottom of the page for anybody who haven’t read/seen one or the other.

* * *

 

_After expelling the Boltons and the Freys from Winterfell and installing the newly returned Rickon Stark as Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, Stannis returned to the Wall, to face the real threat to the Seven Kingdoms. The remains of his army and court were gathered at the Nightfort when the Horn of Joramun was blown. Who could have ever known that such a little thing could create such destruction? But of all those whom he led into that black fortress, none were ever seen again. Thus perished Stannis, who styled himself King of Westeros; his daughter Shireen; Lord Davos Seaworth and his family, who had undergone great tribulations to join them; the reknowned knights Justin Massey and Richard Horpe; and a hundred other diverse knights and lords. So completely buried was the Nightfort, that their remains have never been seen or recovered._

_Some question what impact Stannis had on The War for the Dawn, and would relegate him to a footnote in the pages of history. But others have not forgotten how he once saved the Wall when no others would answer our cries for help. For that, the Watch remembers. Let the rest of the Seven Kingdoms never forget him, either._

An excerpt from “The War for the Dawn,” by Archmaester Samwell, published in 310 AL.

* * *

  

_“Can I touch him?”_

Princess Shireen, upon seeing a Narnian giant.

 

* * *

 

_The time immediately after the Pevensies disappeared was filled with turmoil and injustice that has been well-documented elsewhere in these archives, as various claimants to the throne of Narnia rose and fell. In the year 1017, though, a marvelous thing happened. It had been four children who appeared from the West, seventeen years previously, to liberate us from the yoke of the White Witch’s winter. Now a hundred Sons of Adam came from the East, led by the one we would soon affectionately call The Old Lobster._

_Their arrival was at a fortuitous moment, for the prophet Coriakin had just gathered the people of Narnia in a great council to decide on a new ruler, or a new form of government. At the urging of Lord Mallow, heir to the Duchy of Galma, Stannis put forth his claim, promising to restore justice and peace to the realm, and to treat all Narnians the same regardless of their species._

_The exact sequence of events that led to his election as King remains a source of contention. The young Lord Mallow declared himself struck with Princess Shireen and threw his not-inconsiderable support behind Stannis, though some whisper that he had ulterior reasons. Also, it seems that the Talking Dogs were pleased by Stannis’ speech about the tribulations he had endured at Storm’s End, and prepared to declare for him. However, the Talking Cats feared that the Dogs would gain too much influence if they declared for the victor before them, so they determined to shout for Stannis first. But the Talking Mice managed to upstage them all, and along with the Galmans were the first to declare their support for Stannis. The result was an uproar of support that surprised everybody present; Stannis himself seemed the most shocked, and some swear that the lockjaw, with which he is commonly believed to have been affected, disappeared for a moment._

Excerpt from “The Kings and Queens Who Have Come and Gone,” by Lord Tumnus, published in the Narnian Year 1070.

 

* * *

 

_“A lion. Of course, I would have to kneel before the image of a lion. Is there justice in this world, Lord Davos?”_

_“There is, your grace. I have never known such a just land.”_

King Stannis and Lord Davos, before the coronation.

 

* * *

  

_And so it was that Stannis came to sit on the throne of Narnia, and rule for twenty years. He is remembered, among other things, for establishing a central code of law; elevating a former cook to Chancellor; ordering books of grammar customized for every type of Talking Animal; and having a curious concern for the welfare of Talking Falcons. Narnia was internally peaceful for most of his reign, though the Talking Ravens briefly rebelled after a misunderstanding in which he mistook some for being ordinary ravens, and told them to stop talking. His exact words remain a point of contention._

_..._

_It was in these years that the island of Galma was fully brought into the realm, through the marriage of Princess Shireen to Mallow of Galma. King Stannis objected strongly to the match, but was eventually brought to understand that Galma's support was necessary for both Stannis' claim and Shireen's own eventual succession to the throne. They were married in 1019, with the understanding that Shireen would reign as Queen and Mallow would_ _only be a consort. Three children were born of this union: Ormund, Lyonel, and Elenei. Ormund, the eldest, took after his father; he was carefree and free of tongue. Lyonel, meanwhile, took more after his maternal grandfather, being serious and dutiful. The youngest, Elenei, was doted on by her entire family, and grew to reflect this._

_..._

_The Hand of the King, Lord Davos Seaworth, fell in battle against the Telmarines in the year 1035. Wrathful_ _, King Stannis bestirred himself to inflict a crushing defeat on the Telmarines, though the war continued. However, his health rapidly failed afterwards, and he passed peacefully in his sleep early in 1037._ _It is still a matter of debate whether the smile finally on his face was natural._

Continuing excerpts from “The Kings and Queens Who Have Come and Gone,” by Lord Tumnus.

 

* * *

_“They once wanted me to send you away to Essos because of the greyscale. Your face would forever be scarred, making you a monster in the eyes of many. Fools, the lot.  But I refused. You did not belong on the other side of the world, because you are the Princess Shireen of House Baratheon, and you are my daughter. I regret many things, but I have never regretted that decision. I do not want you to regret it, either. You shall be Queen now.  Be a good Queen. Swear it.”_

Last words of King Stannis Baratheon to Princess Shireen, on his deathbed.

 

* * *

 

And so this story begins in the Narnian year 1037, with the death of King Stannis and ascension of Queen Shireen. She inherited a prosperous, united country. But already people were whispering about being ruled by a woman, and about her elevation of Lord Devan Seaworth to Hand of the Queen. Meanwhile, the shadow of Telmarine invasion loomed, things were secretly amiss in the royal family, and plots were being drawn in the shadows. A storm was about to burst that would sorely test the new queen, her family, and all that they held dear.

 

 DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  * QUEEN SHIREEN I BARATHEON, Queen of Narnia, Empress of the Lone Islands, and Lady of Cair Paravel, thirty-four
    *  Her father, {KING STANNIS I BARATHEON}, King of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands, and Lord of Cair Paravel; affectionately called THE OLD LOBSTER
    *  Her royal consort, LORD MALLOW, Duke of Galma, called THE RAKE, thirty-eight
    *  The royal children:
      *   PRINCE ORMUND, heir to the throne, Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of the Western March, seventeen
      *   PRINCE LYONEL, heir to the Duchy of Galma, Count of Fenwick, called THE YOUNG LOBSTER, thirteen
      *   PRINCESS ELENEI, Duchess of Beruna, nine
    *  Her court and household:
      *   LORD DEVAN SEAWORTH, Hand of the Queen, thirty-six
        *    His father, {LORD DAVOS SEAWORTH}, and mother, LADY MARYA SEAWORTH
        *    His brothers, SIR STANNIS SEAWORTH and SIR STEFFON SEAWORTH
      *   LORD TRAN, General of the Army, an immigrant from Archenland
        *    His wife, LADY VERENA, sister to old Lord Peridan
        *    His son, PERIDAN, squiring for Lord Chyttering, sixteen
        *    His daughter, COLLEEN, a handmaiden to Queen Shireen, fourteen
      *   MALORY, Lady Chancellor
      *   RYDER, a marshwiggle, Admiral of the Fleet
      *   DUSTIN, a hen, Lady Treasurer
      *   SIR KIPLING, a cheetah, Lord Spymaster
      *   LORD LUCOS CHYTTERING, castellan of Cair Paravel
      *   SIR TINTIN, Commander of the Hound Guard
      *   WYNDA, an old midwife
    *  Her principal subjects:
      *   LORD RICHARD HORPE, Count of Ettinsmoor
      *   LORD JUSTIN MASSEY, Governor of the Lone Islands
      *   LADY GRUMPIA, Lady of the Seven Isles
      *   LORD FULCHER, Lord of Terebinthia
      *   MELLARIO, Chief of the Dryads
      *   LORD SUNLEAF, Chief of the Centaurs
      *   SIR DONNEL, a satyr, Mayor of Beruna
      *   LORD TUMNUS, a faun, Mayor of Beaversdam
      *   BRACEGIRDLE, a dwarf, Mayor of Chippingford
    *  In her Army
      *   SIR LAMPING, Lord of Sundance, a centaur, Tran’s second-in-command
      *   NORRIS and AIDEN, soldiers
      *   SIR HAROLD, an adventurer from the Lone Islands



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike this introduction, future chapters would be POV chapters. For now, the main POV characters would include Shireen, Lyonel (think Stannis, but raised in a much better environment), Richard Horpe, and Marya Seaworth.
> 
> Any interest in me continuing this story? I know that these two fandoms aren't usually associated, so please let me know!
> 
> For those who aren’t familiar with Narnia: It’s basically an anti-Westeros (or Westeros is an anti-Narnia, as Narnia came first). It is a country mostly inhabited by talking animals (who are differentiated from non-talking animals by their names being capitalized, so Dogs versus dogs), with some humans (called Sons/Daughters of Adam). Narnia is full of laughter and song, and morality and the rule of law are valued. One quirk is that only humans can legitimately rule Narnia. Narnia was created by a divinity called Aslan, who takes the form of a lion and goes about setting things right. At the time of this story, though, He hadn't been seen for at least 22 years (and wouldn't be for another thousand or so).
> 
> Narnia is bordered on the north by Ettinsmoor, a land of giants recently brought under Narnian control. To the east is a great ocean, and several groups of islands controlled by Narnia (Galma, Terebinthia, the Seven Isles, and the Lone Islands). To the south are the mostly-friendly Archenland and mostly-unfriendly slave country of Calmoren. To the west is the warrior country of Telmar.
> 
> At the beginning of the series, Narnia is in the middle of a Long Winter that has been imposed by an evil White Witch. However, four children from Britain arrive, defeat the Witch, and rule Narnia for fifteen years. However, eventually they return to Britain and are not seen again for a thousand years. The series doesn’t explain what happened in Narnia in those thousand years, but eventually Narnia is conquered by Telmar.
> 
> For those who aren’t familiar with ASOIAF: I’ll just give synopses of the main characters who arrive in Narnia.
> 
> -Stannis Baratheon. He becomes the rightful king when his royal brother dies, since the children thought to be the old king’s are really those of another. However, he is opposed by virtually all the noble houses, and he is defeated. Eventually, he and his remaining army are the only ones to help when a group of soldiers defending the borders of the country, the Night's Watch, are about to be overwhelmed by invading tribes and ice zombies. He then marches to free another part of the country from various invaders, and is last seen with his cold, starving army about to face battle. He has a great sense of justice and duty to the realm, and is fairly unique in that he does not judge a man by his birth. On the other hand, he is stubborn and unsocial, which hurt his cause.
> 
> His life has basically consisted of getting screwed. As a second son, he faithfully served and yet was always ignored by his whoring, drinking older brother. He held the family castle against siege for a year, being reduced to eating, in turn, cats, dogs, rats, leather, and onions, and then the castle was taken away from him and he was instead sent to govern a desolate island castle. His daughter contracted an incurable disease because she lived in such a damp place. Later, when he should have been king, nearly everybody rejected him. And this was due in part because his iron sense of justice and impartiality threatened the morally bankrupt court.
> 
> -Shireen Baratheon. Stannis’ only daughter and heir. She is a sweet, intelligent child. She is also homely and suffers from an incurable disease called greyscale that left half her face covered with cracked and flaking skin. She is shy since she grew up mostly alone, as even her uncles mock her for her looks. Nevertheless, she does not become bitter and instead tries to help others. The show depicts her as being less shy and much more curious and altruistic.
> 
> -Davos Seaworth. He was originally a smuggler from a city slum before he smuggled onions into the castle that Stannis was holding, saving them from starvation. For this Stannis knighted him and gave him lands, but for his smuggling Stannis also removed a joint from each finger on his left hand. Davos is totally loyal to Stannis, and because of this he is not afraid to tell him hard truths that sycophantic highborn nobles wouldn’t. Stannis respects this and makes him a lord and his closest adviser.
> 
> -Devan Seaworth, Davos’ oldest surviving son. A childhood companion to Princess Shireen. Not a whole lot of development, but he presumably has his father’s values.


	2. The Stone Queen

_Even on the day of her coronation, Queen Shireen was already making decisions that would prove to be deeply unpopular in certain quarters._

Excerpt from “The Kings and Queens Who Have Come and Gone,” by Lord Tumnus.

* * *

 

Shireen loved the sound of bells.

She knew there were some who hated them. An omen of fear, they called their pealing. Her father had always disagreed, saying that a just man had nothing to fear. But it was not for that reason she loved the sound. It carried a certain assurance. The hours would pass, but the sun would rise again. Death would come, but so would new births. _Valar morghulis_ , some had said in her old world whose memories were fast fading, a _ll men must die._

Yet there was a bit of trepidation in her breast as she listened to the singing of the bells. High above Cair Paravel they rang, their bronze notes calling the people to the funeral of their king. Her father. Stannis, the first of his name, King of Narnia, would be laid to rest in the crypts of Cair Paravel, a smile on his face at long last. _Would that be how he wanted to be remembered?_

Stannis, she knew, would have ground his teeth at the extravagance of the coming funeral. But the Narnian people would have accepted nothing else for the man they had fondly called the Old Lobster. _If only they knew how much of an insult that was in the old world,_ she thought idly _, to be said to have the personality of a lobster_. And now she would be their Queen. _Queen Shireen. Will I be worthy of that title?_ The title was empty, her father and old Lord Davos had always reminded her, without a worthy person behind it. Her father had been more than worthy, she was sure. But now he was gone.

It was almost time to leave her room. She looked in the mirror and paused. A bit of insecurity passed across her, a moment of wondering if the greatest decision she had ever made was correct. Her long black hair fell freely over her shoulders, but did nothing to hide the large ears of her mother and the square jaw of her father. And her face…half her left cheek and most of her neck were covered in cracked and flaking, grey and black skin. Greyscale, the disease was called. She had had it ever since she was a child, for over three decades now. And it could have been taken away.

When she had arrived in Narnia with her father’s army, the star in a man’s shape, Coriakin, had offered to heal her before he went into exile. He could never return to illuminate the Narnian sky. Instead, he would let the light in him flow into Shireen, to lift the darkness from her face.

The greyscale had been called a deformity, a curse, an affliction. It was the reason many averted their looks around her. It was the reason Shireen had been sad and lonely as a child, as her mother sought to hide her from the public eye. And now, with the extension of Coriakin’s hand, it could have all been taken away.

Shireen had seen the hunger in her father’s look as he looked between Coriakin and her, seen all his anguish and all his hope that she would be truly happy. She met his gaze, and all her life passed before her eyes in that moment.

_“When you were an infant, a Dornish trader landed on Dragonstone,”_ Stannis had once told her when she asked if he was ashamed of her. “ _His goods were junk, except for one wooden doll. He had even sewn a dress on it, in the colors of our house. No doubt he’d heard of your birth, and assumed that new fathers were easy targets. I still remember how you smiled when I put that doll in your cradle, how you pressed it to your cheek._

_By the time we burnt the doll, it was too late. I was told you would die, or worse, the grayscale would go slow. Let you grow just enough to know the world, before taking it away from you. Everyone advised me to send you to the ruins of Valyria, to live out your short life with the stone men, before the sickness spread through the castle._

_I told them all to go to hell. I called in every maester on this side of the world, every healer, every apothecary. They stopped the disease and saved your life, because you did not belong on the other side of the world with the bloody stone men. You are the Princess Shireen of House Baratheon, and you are my daughter.”_

Stannis had never been one to show his emotions, let alone love, but he had never looked as vulnerable as when he told that story. That love, so awkwardly expressed, had been unconditional. She had remembered that moment, and known that she could not accept Coriakin’s gift. She refused that type of healing. Her father had stared at her, and then nodded, as if he finally understood her. And that had been the most precious healing of all. Two victories were won that day. Because, in the end, the greyscale served as a reminder of its own powerlessness. It might have shaped her, but it would never define her. She would not be the ugly girl with the greyscale. That girl had never really existed. It was Shireen Baratheon who lived. It was Shireen Baratheon whom her father loved. It was Shireen Baratheon who had survived far darker terrors than greyscale, and it was Shireen Baratheon who would be queen.

_Queen Shireen_. The title still seemed strange to her. Devan Seaworth had been the first to acclaim her as such, but he had always called her that. And yet her father had said those two words with so much confidence when he had her proclaimed as his successor, and even more on his deathbed.  _There must have been a purpose for all this_ , she reflected. The improbability of her survival as an infant, all that her mother had suffered in the vain hope of bearing a son, the fiery death from which Devan had once rescued her. Surviving the Long Night when so many good men and women did not, her father’s unexpected reign. None of it should ever have happened without a higher purpose.

Later that day, she would begin to find what that purpose was, when the crown was placed on her head. Queen _Shireen. May I be worthy of you and your trust_ ,  _Father_ , Shireen thought as she turned away from the mirror.  _I will not let it all be in vain._ She would be strong; the day that she had resolved to live the rest of her life with greyscale was the day when she left behind all these insecurities and doubts.

There was a knock on the door. “I will be on time,” she called out.

Her handmaiden, Colleen, stuck her head in the doorway. “It’s Lord Seaworth to see you…your grace.” The last words came awkwardly.

“Show him in, and close the door.” Colleen hesitated, and then complied.

“A word if you please, my queen.”

“You’ve had seven already.” Shireen suppressed a smile.

“Then I beg your pardon for the other…six, was it? I didn’t bother counting.”

”I didn’t either. You say the same thing every time, Devan.”

Devan Seaworth had not changed much in the twenty years since they arrived in Narnia, though he now sported a small, thin brown beard. Devan still had his father’s square, plain face and thin shoulders, with forthright brown eyes and thin brown hair. And now he was blushing as she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. _Ah, Devan, always as earnest as when we were just children playing in the gardens of Dragonstone._

“I jest,” she said. “Now, I’m sure you didn’t come here to my chambers for pleasantries.”

Devan swallowed. “No, Shireen. There’s another matter. Half the kingdom is gathered outside. When you go to meet them, you must remember that you must be addressed as Your Grace, or Queen. There will be some who fail to do so, perhaps from negligence, perhaps from malice.”

Shireen turned away and looked out the window. There were Men and Animals everywhere in sight, taking every available open spot in the castle. Some even looked expectantly towards her rooms. “We have had this discussion before. It is my father on whom the focus should be.”

Her friend shook his head wearily. “My father always said you were as stubborn as King Stannis. Perhaps he was wrong to compare you. You can be even more stubborn, and at the worst times.”

She glowered at him, but Devan continued doggedly. “How your father is remembered and honored would have meant nothing to him. But if there was one thing he fought for, all these years, it was for you, for your inheritance. Now he is gone, but you remain. You cannot let your love for your father allow him to remain Your Grace and you only a princess. There will be vultures out there, and I don’t mean of the talking kind...though there are some of those, come to think of it. They will bow and simper, but mock you in their hearts. What easier way to show this than to ‘forget’ their courtesies? And if you allow it, they will see it as weakness. I know it is hard for you, but you must not allow this to happen. You are Queen now.”

“Is it so hard?” Shireen whispered, half to herself. “I don’t want it, any more than my father ever did. Yet it is my duty, which I thank you for reminding me of, and father never shirked duty. Now, I’m sure you don’t want to hear a monologue about how I am my father’s daughter.”

“I do not. I served Stannis in the past, and I serve Shireen now.”

“Then serve as my Hand. Or Paw, or Hoof, or Wing, whichever you prefer.” Implementing the Westerosi custom of having a titled chief royal advisor had not caused as much trouble as the name itself. In the end, each type of Talking Animal adopted its own name for the one who held the position. Marya Seaworth jested that Davos had lost four fingers for Stannis and then gained ten appendages back when he arrived in Narnia as Stannis’ Hand.

Devan flinched. The custom would be for him to kneel to accept the honor, but he held back. _Perhaps because we are both so stubborn, the stubbornness is magnified?_ Shireen wondered.

“Your grace, I must ask you to reconsider. Some will say that the Seaworths have become too powerful, and that I ascended to the position only because of my family…or because of my friendship with you. Not on my merits.”

“I don’t care. I know nobody better than you.”

“Chancellor Malory? She has a brilliant enough mind. Or Lord Horpe. Why me?”

“Malory is too reserved, and I would have to make Horpe recuse himself from anything relating to the Lone Islands and Justin Massey. I’m asking you, for the same reason my father asked your father to be his Hand. To tell me the hard truths that others would not. Because you know me for whom I really am, with all my faults, and not for whose daughter I am. Because you are not afraid to remind me of that. I need you, Devan.” She knew, with the last words, that Devan could never refuse her.

Sure enough, he knelt this time. “My Queen. I pray I will be worthy of your trust.”

_May I also be worthy of you and your trust_ , _Father_ , Shireen thought again as she gave Devan her hand to lift him up. _I will not let it all be in vain._ But now she would have to bury her father, in more ways than one. The time had come to bury her childhood and the past, and face the future. A future, with all its storms and furies, which would be hers to guide. She couldn't only be Stannis’ daughter, any more than she was only the ugly girl with greyscale. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Scarred Knight. Richard Horpe observes the funeral and has an encounter with an old companion.
> 
> Definitions for those unfamiliar with Narnia:  
> -Coriakin was introduced as a magician ruling an isolated island. It was later revealed that he was a star, as Narnian stars are really living beings who go through phases of either illuminating the night or living in the world like humans. For unspecified crimes, he was unable to return to the heavens.
> 
> Definitions for those unfamiliar with ASOIAF:  
> -Maesters are combined physicians/advisers/scribes/postmen  
> -Valyria is a ruined, abandoned nation on the other side of the world. The stone men are people with greyscale exiled to basically a leper colony. Greyscale is a contagious disease, if left unchecked, basically changes the entire body to stone.


	3. The Scarred Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unreliable narrator ahoy. For example, I like Justin Massey; Richard Horpe does not.

_For most of the leading knights who arrived with King Stannis, war was a way of life, and the court a stranger. There was one notable exception, though, with the adaptability and popularity to become one with the Narnians. There is no denying the impact that Justin Massey had on the culture of Baratheon Narnia._

Excerpt from “The Kings and Queens Who Have Come and Gone,” by Lord Tumnus.

* * *

 

 

Richard Horpe hated the court.

“To be courtly is to be false,” Stannis had told him, the first time they spoke. Richard had just come from the royal court, the court that laughed when Queen Cersei whispered in King Robert’s ear and Ser Boros Blount was named to the Kingsguard instead of him. Boros Blount, whom everybody knew was a knight only because he had the favor of better men and women. Boros Blount, whose great achievement, helping the Lannister army enter King’s Landing, was rumored to have involved getting stone drunk with the guards at one of the gates.

Life had all seemed a lie then. All the years of dedicated training, all the battles in which he had fought at Robert’s side in the rebellion, the scars which already covered his face and body, were all worthless to him at that moment. Before he had seen the writing on the wall and known that there would be open spots on the Kingsguard, the elite body of white knights around the King, if Robert won. Robert had won and been crowned; there were five new members of the Kingsguard, and Richard was not among them. So he found himself without purpose, and he could not stay at court after that humiliation.

Horpe had set his face and marched away from the tourney grounds. Justin Massey would have gone and ate and whored his sorrows away, he was sure. But he was not like his irksome friend. He directed his steps to the shipyards, where he found the king’s brother.

Stannis had been standing on a pier, arms clasped behind his back, directing the loading of provisions onto the fleet that would soon sail to assault the last holdouts of the old Targaryen regime. Richard was shocked by how much of a contrast with his brother Robert Stannis was; Stannis was tall and lean, the suffering of the year-long siege that he had endured still evident in his body. Smiles and laughs came rarely to him, and from the direction he was imparting to the workers, it was clear that he suffered no nonsense. He seemed the complete antithesis of the court that had just destroyed his dreams.

“You are not at the tourney,” Stannis had said simply, his face unreadable.

“Fuck the tourney. Fuck all the court.”

Stannis had ground his teeth, and Richard paled. What had he been thinking to say that, in front of the King’s own brother, and a stranger at that? But then Stannis muttered, “Even Robert would find that difficult.” _He thinks the same,_ Richard realized.

And so Richard had explained his troubles, in the short, clipped sentences that Stannis seemed to enjoy. “Should I have been more courtly?” he finished.

Stannis snorted. “To be courtly is to be false. As Robert will no doubt discover one day, when he looks upon the ruin of his Kingsguard.” He turned away to board the flagship _Fury_. “What is the true worth of a man? That he learns to be a lickspittle to please fools, or that he has done his duty in whatever path life suffers him? Come with me and take Dragonstone.” And Richard Horpe had followed him, and left King’s Landing and his childhood dreams behind.

The last he had heard of Boros Blount, Boros was serving as a food taster for the usurper king. But Richard had tasted another dish, and found a purpose again. At Dragonstone and a dozen other battles, he had fought beside Stannis, eventually rising to second-in-command of his army, and being second only to the late Lord Davos in his counsel. There was nothing so sweet to Richard Horpe as battle, no touch as intimate as a sword in his hand.

And no moment had been as bitter as that which should have been his end, when he watched the mountain of splitting, cracking ice crashing down around him. His death would not be at the hand of any foe into whose eyes he could look and know who had bested him. It would be by water, albeit very hard, deadly water. He had closed his eyes, the bitterness taking him again.

When he opened them again, he wondered if he was in one of the heavens in which he didn’t believe. The trees were in bloom, and the sun that had not shone in months blazed in all the glory that Horpe had never really appreciated.

Stannis became King of Narnia, and eventually appointed Richard as Count of Ettinsmoor. Ettinsmoor was a cold, desolate place, always under the threat of attack from the northern giants and the remains of the White Witch’s army—hags, werewolves, goblins, and the ilk. But Richard enjoyed it far more than the sunny, stream-filled majority of Narnia, with all its song and birds. In the north there was always battle to be found, and Stannis knew exactly where Horpe’s talents were best directed. To shield the north of the kingdom, to always be ready for battle so that the rest of Narnia could live in peace and quiet, to protect Shireen, that was the mission with which Stannis had entrusted him.

Richard owed everything to Stannis. To the man who had been able look beyond his scars, his pockmarks, and his low birth. To the king who had raised him from nothing to become one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. Disobeying Stannis’s orders would never have crossed his mind. And if Stannis ordered him to serve Shireen as Queen, then serve her he would.

All the same, it did not displease him to do so. There was strength in Shireen, far more than he saw in her husband or Justin Massey or many of the others standing around her in the great throne room. She never complained about her scars, never allowed what others said about her to unduly affect her, and instead poured her soul into serving the people around. She had all her father’s stubbornness, tempered by empathy and a desire to know why it was that people acted in the way that they did. Stannis would ban a brothel; Shireen would probably do the same, and then help its workers to find a better life than that which had driven them into it.

But as he glanced around the great throne room, where a last farewell was being held for King Stannis before he was interred in the crypts below Cair Paravel, and the golden crown was moving to weary a fresh head, he wondered how many shared his sentiments. Westeros had never been ruled by a queen alone; as for Narnia, the one time in its history that had happened, the country had fallen to the White Witch. _Who will be faithful, and who will be the false in this court?_

He saw the Royal Consort, Duke Mallow of Galma, standing by Shireen’s side. The Duke looked immensely bored and ignored Shireen’s occasional pointed glare. The three royal children were standing in a line behind. Ormund, the eldest, looked splendid in a suit of black and gold armor, the Baratheon colors; he had ridden hard from the west, where he was squiring for General Tran, and arrived just in time to say farewell to his grandfather. Lyonel, who would inherit Galma, looked awkward in silver and blue armor, with a black cape. Little Elenei clutched Lyonel’s hand. All three had long, thin black hair and blue eyes. _Baratheons_ , Horpe thought, no trace of Galma in their features. _Just as well._ Horpe certainly did not like the Duke of Galma. He was too close with Justin Massey. And even closer with less reputable men, the rumor ran.

On either side of Richard were the short Lady Grumpia of the Seven Isles and even shorter-tempered Lord Fulcher of Terebinthia, two principalities that were nominally part of Narnia. Horpe hadn’t seen their rulers in years, and was sure that they would shortly disappear again. He wondered where Massey was; as Governor of the Lone Islands, he should be with them. The ancient dryad ruler Mellario was snoring as he stood next to Lord Sunleaf of the centaurs, who looked impassively ahead as he pretended not to pay any attention to Mellario. Next were jolly ‘Little Lucos’ Chyttering, who ran the castle of Cair Paravel and was not so little any more, and the hen treasurer, Dustin. Admiral Ryder and Sir Kipling made an odd pair as they stood together; the marshwiggle admiral’s long, awkward limbs and perpetual scowl contrasted with the smirking, compact cheetah spymaster. Chancellor Malory, the former cook, was next. She also owed everything to Stannis, Richard knew, yet she had always been cold towards the princess. The only member of the royal council missing was the Archen immigrant General Tran, away dealing with Telmarine intrusions in the west.

And at the far end was Lord Devan Seaworth. Richard didn’t doubt his absolute loyalty to Queen Shireen, but he did doubt his fitness for the job. The whispers were already going about court that Devan had been chosen by the Queen to be her Hand. Though Richard prided himself on not repeating these rumors, he listened to them all the same. Devan’s father, Lord Davos, had been a great man; nobody disputed that. Devan himself had done sterling work in helping codify the various laws of Narnia, and in various other administrative affairs that Richard did not understand. But there was one thing that Richard was certain he understood, and that was war. Devan had never led an army into battle. Certainly nobody was expecting the Queen to lead the army, and the princes were too young. So who else would there be to rally the nation when the time came? When Narnia’s existence was threatened, as it had and would again? _It could have been me,_ crossed Richard’s mind briefly.

The ceremony was becoming more and more unbearable. _Too many birds flouting their feathers,_ Richard thought. But at last it was over—the tomb was sealed, the crown placed. “One realm, one lion, one queen!” somebody in the crowd shouted, and the others quickly took up the cry. It echoed off the walls and down the narrow corridors packed with mourners.

Horpe knew that Shireen disliked the motto. It reminded her of nightfires, of being abandoned by her mother in favor of the foreign god whose supporters had chanted it in front of the hungry flames. But the Narnians had loved it, and taken to shouting it even louder than the R’hlorrists, simply changing God to Lion.

Stannis had been very angry as well upon hearing it. But it was too late to halt its spread. And that had been nothing compared to his cold fury when another fool decided to sing ”The Rains of Castamere” to a crowd of Narnians. The Narnians had been taken with it as well. Now a far too merry version of the tune, speaking of a tiger who dared to defy Aslan and his fate, was sung in taverns all across Narnia.

“I thought I had only soldiers left in my army, not minstrels,” Stannis grumbled. Massey at least had had the sense to look ashamed.

 _Think of Justin and he returns to plague me,_ Horpe thought as he saw Massey’s blond head approaching from the opposite side of the hall as the crowd began to break up. The two had long been rivals for position and influence. When Richard was dispatched to Ettinsmoor, Justin had jested, in Stannis’ presence, that the king simply wanted one less scowling man at court. There had been one fewer fool in court a week later, when Justin was sailing to the faraway Lone Islands to serve as the new governor.

“Richard!” Massey’s smile remained as easy as ever, his flaxen hair untouched by gray, though he was fleshier than Horpe had remembered. He wore a tunic and cloak made of fine Calormene silks, a blaze of blue and red and green with some black trim here and there. And that hat with its bird feather—Aslan, how he loved that plumed hat. _It’s almost as if he does it to annoy me,_ Richard thought as he glanced down at his own worn armor and surcoat with three death’s-head moths. “Glad to see you,” Massey said cheerfully. “I was worried that you had frozen to death in that chilly dominion of yours. Perhaps our gentle new queen will end your exile.”

“The King had need of me there, and I am sure so will the Queen. I believe it was _you_ whom Stannis exiled.”

Justin looked hurt. “Now, no need for that, Richard. We’ve been friends since we dragged our king off the field at Blackwater together, haven’t we?”

“ _I_ dragged him off the field. _You_ clutched his arm.”

Massey shrugged “Well, somebody had to get his attention. Excuse me for a second.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a strange tube. Taking a knife, he cut a little bit off the end; then striking a match, he…put it into his mouth? _Is he mad as well as a coward, to be eating his food as it cooks?_ But Massey did not chew on it; instead, after a few seconds, he seemed to be blowing gently, in and out, through it. “Would you like to try one?”

“No.”

“What a pity,” Justin said, as he took the tube into his fingers. “I’d try to persuade you, but you’re just too stubborn. However, you’ll find that much of the court has started to enjoy these from my occasional visits. I just persuaded Sir Tintin of the Hound Guard to buy a dozen. The Calormenes call them cigars.” He took a puff. “Taxing them has been racking up the crown quite a tidy sum of money. I personally visited Taashbaan to persuade the Grand Vizier to let his merchants sell the tobacco to the Lone Islands at a discount in exchange for some insignificant trade concessions. Then merchants from the Lone Islands can wrap them and sell them as Narnian goods, for a fine profit. You should try something like that, Richard. It’s made me rich.”

“You said taxing them was earning the _crown_ money, Massey. Then how are you…”

“Oh, the taxes go straight to Cair Paravel. But I married this past year. To the daughter of the leading cigar merchant. ” Massey leaned forwards conspiratorially. “I’m sure I could arrange a good match for you, for companionship’s sake. Money, Richard, that’s where the future is. Not counthoods.”

Richard ignored the subtle jab. “I must question whether you married the wife or the money. And what would I do with money? Buy a new suit of armor?”

Justin dared to look exasperated. “Luckily, I got both a fine wife and the money. Now that the governorship is no longer hereditary, you could say that I’m learning to make preparations for the future of a new style…”

Massey broke off as he saw the Queen approaching. “Queen Shireen,” he said, removing his cigar, sweeping off his plumed hat and bowing low. The hat passed uncomfortably close to Richard’s nose.

He tried not to snort as he inclined his head. “Your grace,” he said curtly.

The queen nodded graciously. “Would you do me the honor of remaining as Lord Governor?” she asked Massey. “You have done well negotiating with your Calormene neighbors. Though I will ask that you come to court often to report, as our intelligence within Calmoren has been lacking for years.”

Justin accepted with fervent protestations of leal service and equally fervent self-promotion. Shireen then turned to Richard. “Would you like to come back to court? We’ve been fighting the same enemies for decades. I want to have an advisor who has dealt with them and knows their lands and customs.”

Richard took a look at Justin and his hat. “No, I’d rather remain in Ettinsmoor.” He half-regretted saying this, and resolved to send frequent reports. “I can stay for a few days to tell you what I can,” he added, though gritting his teeth at the prospect.

Shireen nodded and looked like she wanted to say something, but Justin was already rambling away. “You must know how shocked I was to hear the news of our king; if there was one man who I could imagine could make Death flee, it was King Stannis. Nothing ever gave me so much pleasure as to stand before him, that beacon of steadfastness and righteousness, and pledge to serve him and you…”

Shireen glanced at him, and Richard could swear that there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Richard remembered when Justin Massey had arrived to pledge his service to Stannis. The king had listened to three sentences, then asked if Justin was going to bend the knee or not. Shireen listened to four before thanking Justin kindly, nodding to Richard, and moving on. Richard noticed that Justin was looking appreciatively at the Queen’s back as she disappeared into the crowd.

“Justin.”

“Ah, yes.” Massey turned back with a flourish. “I intend to write a book. _The Admirable Wit and Wisdom of Stannis Baratheon_. What do you think of that? I reckon the Queen will be quite pleased with it.”

“I recall one quote of his that would fit you perfectly, Justin. You would call the contents of his privy admirable. Oh, and close your mouth before a bird decides to nest there.” And with that he turned away from the wilting Lord Massey.

He wanted to be away, far away from Justin and his feathery plumed hat. He could saddle his horse, collect the giants and men-at-arms who had come with him, and ride back to the powerful walls of Northshield. But he would serve his queen, and wait. But he would not remain in the hall another moment.

To his great distress, Treasurer Dustin stopped him, inviting him to dinner with much emphatic shaking of her wings, and refusing to take no for an answer. Then when he had extracted himself from her attentions, he found his way blocked by a murder of crows paying homage to the queen.

It took all his strength not to be gasping for air when he finally found a side door and reached the outside. He leaned against the pillar of a little corridor and enjoyed the silence, the emptiness.

“Hard day?” he heard a voice behind him. Turning with a sigh, he saw Devan Seaworth, pastries rather badly concealed in his pockets. _His father would have been ashamed of his smuggling abilities._ Glancing behind, Richard’s suspicions were confirmed when he saw Princess Elenei peeking around another column, a finger pressed to her lips. “Or just avoiding Lord Governor Massey?

“I am not running from Justin Massey!” Richard declared indignantly, trying to keep his voice down. He glanced around, making sure there was no blond in sight. “I’m allergic to bird feathers!” 

* * *

 

_And who are you, the proud tigre said,_

_that I must bow so low?_

_Only a cat of a different coat,_

_that's all the truth I know._

_In a coat of gold or a coat of stripes,_

_a cat still has claws,_

_And mine are long and sharp, Aslan,_

_as long and sharp as yours._

_And so he spoke, and so he spoke,_

_that cat of Beruna,_

_But now the snows fall o'er his den,_

_no true Narnian there to hear._

_Yes now the snows fall o'er his den,_

_not a true Narnian to hear._

-Commonly attributed to Justin Massey

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Young Lobster. The coronation is observed by somebody actually interested, and the family is introduced.
> 
>  
> 
> >>>  
> “Horpe and Massey aspire to your father’s seat. Massey wants the wildling princess too. He once served my brother Robert as squire and acquired his appetite for female flesh. Horpe will take Val to wife if I command it, but it is battle he lusts for. As a squire he dreamed of a white cloak, but Cersei Lannister spoke against him and Robert passed him over.”  
> >>>  
> This one seemed to be the king's familiar. Lean, dark-haired, hard-eyed, his face marred by pockmarks and old scars, he (Richard Horpe) wore a faded surcoat embroidered with three moths.  
> >>>  
> “Oh, leave off, Godry,” said Ser Justin Massey, a loose-limbed, fleshy knight with a ready smile and a mop of flaxen hair... “We all know what a big giant sword you have, I’m sure. No need for you to wave it in our faces yet again.”  
> “The only thing waving here is your tongue, Massey.”  
> >>>  
> "Your Grace, if you are dead — "  
> " — you will avenge my death, and seat my daughter on the Iron Throne. Or die in the attempt."  
> Ser Justin put one hand on his sword hilt. "On my honor as a knight, you have my word."
> 
>  
> 
> It never ceases to amuse me how Stannis’ top men had: missing fingers (Davos); a scarred and pockmarked face (Richard); and a face scarred with pockmarks (Rolland Storm). And then there’s Justin Massey.  
> It’s almost as if Stannis wanted to make sure that Shireen’s future top guns wouldn’t judge her based on her appearance. And that he made Justin, being the exception, specifically swear an oath to serve her.
> 
> Each chapter has and will provide a glimpse back at Stannis, in some way.
> 
> I know this chapter and the next may seem very setup-y, and that they are. Of course, this being ASOIAF-based, the seeds of what comes next are already being planted. And it isn't necessarily pretty.
> 
> But for now, I'm enjoying expunging the taste of Season 5, and hope you enjoy this as well.


End file.
